Heat
by LynstHolin
Summary: SEXY DRAMIONE When Hermione returns to Hogwarts after the war, things heat up in more ways than one.


I did one of those fake Facebook convos and titled it 'Dramione: 8th Year UST'. (It's on my dA account) I thought it might be fun to turn it into a short story. It's not PWP, but it is one of the spicier things I've written so far.

Warnings: suggestiveness, m/f sex, language, elements bordering on non-con

...

Hogwarts was healing itself, slowly but surely, and the healing process was generating heat. Both the castle itself and everything within the stone walls surrounding the grounds was enveloped in an unseasonable warmth. It was a nice change from the usual cold Scottish winters, but it was far too warm for robes.

Hermione was headed for the brand new work-out room. Headmistress McGonagall wanted as many students to come back to complete their educations as possible. Getting eighteen-year-olds who'd been out in the world and on their own already to come back to school was tricky, so certain desired amenities and privileges were granted to 'eighth-year' students. They had their own lounge, away from the younger students, and separate sleeping quarters for each student instead of dorms. Also, they had the right to go to Hogsmeade whenever they wanted, a very relaxed dress code, and the work-out room.

She'd tried to get Ron to come with her, but he'd just laughed and popped another chocolate frog in his mouth. His appetite was catching up with him, and his gut was ever expanding. Hermione kept scolding herself for being shallow, but she couldn't help it-she was bothered by how puffy his face had gotten, and the way his chest was starting to look rather... feminine. At the rate he was gaining weight, he was going to be double his starting size by the end of the school year.

Boys' heads turned as she walked down the corridor in her white tank top and pink shorts. Hermione enjoyed working out, and it showed. Getting sweaty and exhausted kept her spirits up, which was very important in the aftermath of the war. Many of the younger students were still traumatized, and Hermione ended up spending a lot of time helping and comforting them.

She'd been hoping to have the room to herself, but she saw a familiar blond head. Of course, it had to be _him_. The faculty of Hogwarts was stressing unity more than competition these days, hoping to prevent future schisms in the wizarding community that could lead to war. And so Slughorn had paired Gryffindors with Slytherins in his class. Hermione had spent the past four months bickering with her potions partner, Draco Malfoy. No one could madden her the way that boy could.

His silver gaze met hers, and her heart started beating faster. He was shirtless, the abs and pecs that he'd sculpted during the school year gleaming with sweat. He lay on his back on a bench, doing presses with a barbell. She felt a warm flush all over. _Ohhhhh, he just annoys me so much_! Earlier that day, they'd squabbled in class because he kept bumping her knee with his. She gave him a nasty glare that he returned and sat down at the leg press machine.

"Think you could get those shorts any shorter, Granger? I can see your birthmark. It's shaped like a heart."

"Look all you want. Like I'd ever let you put your hands all over me. And I'm not the only exhibitionist in this room." Why did Malfoy feel the need to wear his track-suit bottoms so low? Did he think everyone wanted to see that line of golden hair that started just under his navel?

"Do you like what you see?"

"Not every girl is swooning over you just because you're rich and good-looking." _Blast. Where did those last two words come from_?

"And not every boy is panting after you just because you're clever and fit."

Hermione channeled her emotions into her work-out, pressing until her thigh muscles felt like jelly. Draco got up from the bench and stood in front of Hermione to towel the sweat off himself. "Not every girl wants your tight little bottom right in her face, Malfoy." _What is wrong with me? Why do I keep saying these things_?

"Who says I even want you looking at it?" He bent over to tie a shoe-lace. "You aggravate me so bloody much, I can barely sleep some nights."

"The same here. You are the most provoking creature I've ever encountered."

Throwing his towel over one shoulder, Draco sauntered to the door. "I'll leave you all alone now, your Royal Shrewiness."

...

Hermione showered off the sweat from her work-out. She had just pulled on a nightgown when there was a knock at her bedroom door. Ron grinned and wiggled his eyebrows when he saw the wisp of blue silk she was wearing. "You must have read my mind." He shut the door behind him and steered her toward the bed.

Hermione's heart sank. She and Ron had started having sex about a month ago. She'd been told by more experienced girls that it wouldn't be that good the first few times, and it wasn't. But it never got much better. Though at least it didn't hurt any more. Hermione sighed, wondering for the umpteenth time what the big deal about sex was. Her mind wandered as Ron huffed and puffed above her. She went over her day's encounters with Malfoy, especially the way he'd been parading himself around half-naked. Showing so much skin, she could see the deep indentations bracketing his hips, and the dimples above his arse and-_oh_!

Her first orgasm. It wasn't the mind-blowing experience that was described in romance novels. It was more like a tickle. At least it was _something_.

Ron was grinning proudly. "You know, it sounded almost like you cried out 'Malfoy'. I guess it was just so good, you had no idea what you were saying."

Hermione laughed weakly.

...

Hermione sat in the eighth-year lounge, engrossed in a newly-published novel depicting the lives of the four founders of Hogwarts. _Did Salazar Slytherin really conduct simultaneous affairs with Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw_? She was doing her best to ignore Malfoy, who was draped across a window seat reading the same novel, with Parkinson sitting at his feet.

Ron came in and flumped himself down on the couch next to Hermione. "What're you reading?" She showed him the cover of the book. "Have you gotten to the dirty parts yet? Were they as good as everyone said? Longbottom and I are going to have a chocolate frog eating contest, want to watch? How can you just sit there and read when you don't have to? It's not even anything true. Want to watch me at Quidditch practice tomorrow? Do you want to play wizard chess?"

Hermione threw her book down. "How am I ever supposed to get to the dirty parts if you _won't let me read_? Every day, you do this to me."

"You're so boring when you just sit and read."

"And watching Quidditch practice is _fascinating_."

"_Fine_." Ron stomped away. "Looks like you'll miss the frog-eating contest, then."

"Your boyfriend is an idiot," said Malfoy. Parkinson snickered, though Hermione noticed that she was watching her and Malfoy suspiciously.

"Shut it."

"The dirty parts _are_ pretty good."

"Did I say I wanted to hear you talk?"

"I didn't realize I needed your permission."

Hermione growled and threw her book at Malfoy. "Why are you such an irritating git?"

Malfoy jumped to his feet. "Why are you such a bossy know-it-all?"

Hermione stood up. "I'm so tired of being your potions partner."

"Really? Then why are your nipples hard all through class?" he asked. He was all of two feet from her now. "Look, they're hard right now."

Hermione gasped in shock and embarrassment, crossing her arms over her chest. Parkinson went red-faced and teary-eyed. "We are officially broken up!" she screamed at Malfoy.

"Pansy? What did I do?"

"Don't ever speak to me again!" Parkinson ran from the lounge.

Malfoy clutched his head. "_Bloody women_." He glared at Hermione. "I'm going for a swim." He stalked toward the door. "You get me so worked up, I have to cool off."

...

Hermione found herself down by the lake. A pale form emerged from the water. Malfoy was only the second naked man Hermione had seen in the flesh, and oh, how different he looked from Ron. Moonlight gleamed on his wet skin. He was a right bastard, but he was still beautiful. He bent down and pulled on a pair of trousers. "So you're an exhibitionist _and_ a voyeur, Granger? Kinky."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"So you didn't come here looking for me?" He stalked toward her.

"You have an awfully high opinion of yourself. Someone needs to knock you down a few pegs."

"The pot calls the kettle black." He was only a foot from her now. He was close enough to see her erect nipples through her shirt.

"_Arse-hole_."

"_Bitch_." He pushed her back against the tree. She tried to get away, but he was too strong. He captured her hands, pinning them above her head with one of his. He siezed her chin roughly with his other hand and glared down at her, then lowered his lips to hers.

It was like his kiss set her on fire. Heat washed all through her body, settling in her lower belly. He pressed his body against hers, and she could feel how hard he was. She moaned. He slipped a hand between them and pulled up her mini-skirt, ripping her lacy little knickers right off in one yank. After undoing his zip, he hooked one of her ankles over his shoulder, and he thrust inside of her. "You're so hot and wet," he whispered into her ear.

"Oh, God. _Oh, God_." This was _it_. This was what the songs and the novels were written about. Oh, it was _divine_. "Please, don't stop,_ please_," she heard herself whimper. The rational part of her mind had completely shut down; she was now an animal, mindless with desire. The bark of the tree abraded her flesh as they writhed together, but she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the sweet, hot ache where their bodies joined. He had dropped her hands, and now she was grasping his firm buttocks, urging him to thrust harder.

He gasped out incoherent words as he fucked her. He moved faster inside her, and she felt a tension building up. Her hips bucked of their own accord, beyond her control. _Oh, it's coming, it's coming, it's_-

Hermione's ecstatic wail echoed across the lake. Draco kept pistoning away, coaxing a second spasm of pleasure from her. She whined deep in her throat, pulling at his hair as the orgasm flowed through her undulating body. "I can't hold back any longer," he panted. A couple more strokes, and he collapsed against her, making a noise that was part growl and part purr.

Hermione didn't want to open her eyes afterward; she was afraid of what expression Draco would have on his face. Mockery? Triumph? Disgust? "Look at me," he breathed, and she obeyed. He had the same look of wonder that Hermione was sure she had.

She said, "It was never..."

"That good for you before?" She nodded. "Same here." He ghosted his lips across hers. "Break up with Weasley. He's all wrong for you. If you marry him, you'll be bored for the rest of your life."

"Are you saying you want to be my boyfriend?"

"You'll never be bored with me." He started stroking her breasts through her shirt, making the fire run through her again.

"Still have a high opinion of yourself, don't you," she sighed as she melted into his caresses.

They took each other's clothes off and sank to the ground. Draco pulled her on top of him so she could ride him. He could see all of her as she moved up and down on him, which excited her even more. "Say yes," he said.

She threw her head back, hair flying. "Yes. Yes. Oh, _yes_."


End file.
